Rear-Ended

Today I was rear-ended.
But not how you might think or by whom you might think.


I was rear-ended by LoveHubbie.


Yes, LoveHubbie!

My distinguished and loving husband rear-ended me today.

Here's what happened: I started out the day with an early morning appointment at the doctor's office. I was running just a few minutes late. Then things started to go wrong. First my electronic key to open my car door didn't work. So I opened the car door with my manual key. I thought the battery in the key fob must be dead.

Next I tried to close the garage door from inside my car. The door wouldn't move. I couldn't believe it! So I went in and closed it from the inside. I turned off the house alarm and left by the side door. I was in a hurry because all of these little problems were causing me to be late.

Finally, I tried to start the car. Of course, it didn't start, which most of you would predict.

But as for me...I know nothing about cars, so I just thought that three bad things in a row had happened to me.



So...I called LoveHubbie at work. Of course, he realized that either my battery was dead or my electrical system was shot--all three incidents were related. Of course.

Being the helpful and handsome (look <---, see <--- ) LoveHubbie that he is, he left work and picked me up, then I drove him back to work and used his car to make some of the other appointments I had that day while I worked on getting someone to fix my car. My car is only 11 months old, so I had Hyundai roadside assistance. After some minor trouble, the tow truck showed up and jumped my battery, and the tow guy, Dave, said that it was just a dead battery and nothing more. Great! However, when the battery started, the car alarm did too. Dave said that this meant that the alarm must have been on when the battery died. He said the car was being tampered with when the alarm went off and no one came to turn it off, so that's what ran battery go down. He was adamant. My alarm shutoff didn't work, but Dave really knew Hyundai's and did a little procedure that involved using the manual key, locking the door, and unlocking it, and low and behold--he silenced the alarm.

LoveHubbie and I had been in Seattle all day on Saturday, and so it must have happened then, we figured.

So all was okay at that point.

But LoveHubbie was thinking about things.

How did this happen, he wondered? Had the car actually been tampered with? Did some car thief make it out into our woods and mess with our car...maybe the same guy who stole my car keys from our yard last year...or could a deer have just brushed by the car and set off the alarm?

Was the alarm really super sensitive?

Maybe a raccoon?

Deer and raccoons seemed so much more likely, in his mind, than an intruder.


So, later tonight, we were both at his office working.

LoveHubbie was still thinking about things. The car. The "intruder". The deer. The raccoons.




LoveHubbie's brain can be a little wild and crazy at times. He got this idea.

When we were leaving to go home, he said to me, lock your car again. We were both standing outside the car and I was getting in. So I stepped back out and asked him why.


I want to try something, he said. Lock your car again and set the alarm. Go ahead.

So of course, that's just what I did.

I'm a good wife.



LoveHubbie said, Look! I'm going to see if I can set off the alarm!


He turned and rammed his rear end (as in--his buttocks) as hard as he could into the front left side of the car. Later, he would say that he "barely" touched it. To me at the time, it seemed really, really hard.


And, I should mention that LoveHubbie has a rock-hard bum. Maybe even harder than a rock...apparently.


I had a huge dent on the front left side of the car.

A huge dent.

I had been rear-ended, literally and absolutely.



My new car. Rear-ended by LoveHubbie's butt.

It looked like I'd had a terrible accident.

The noise the collision had made wasn't nice. It was solely from the car, and it was a grating scrunch. No alarm either. Just the sound of bum crunching metal.

LoveHubbie promised he'd fix it. He'd tried at work--right there in the parking lot--to pop it out, but there were layers of protection of some sort under the metal, so he was unable to do it. He swore he'd be successful once he got home and got "something to pop it out with". What could he possibly be thinking of? LoveHubbie is not super handy and has some tools, but not many.



Well, he was thinking of suction cups.

Suction. Cups.

Once we got home, LoveHubbie and I tried to find some obscure kitchen implement he remembered from earlier years that had really strong suction cups with it. He tried to describe it to me, but the description was vague and somewhat bizarre and I couldn't imagine what it was. I'm sure it was a kitchen implement he remembers from his previous marriage almost nine years ago, something they'd used to grind up wheat berries or core apples with, neither of which things I do. Who knows? So that was a dead end.


But then I remembered some suction cups I had on a shampoo holder in the guest shower (to attach it to a smooth wall), and so LoveHubbie quickly grabbed one and went out to try to pop out the dent with it (before the dent set itself and became impossible to pop out, he thought). The suction cup had no handle, just a knob on top, so he held it with a pair of pliers and jerked it over and over again. He'd soaped up the side of the car so that it would adhere.


Sure enough, the dent popped out partially, but still left a large and very-obvious-to-me dimple.


So we looked for (and found!) a teensy weensy suction cup on my spare razor pod under the sink in our master bath. I'd forgotten about it because it was an extra razor (free from Amazon, sent to me to review...of course), but the cup size was perfect. Really tiny.

LoveHubbie got out there in the dark and tried to pop out the dimple. He really tried hard. No luck. So tomorrow he's going to take my car to a body shop and have them pop it out for me, he says. Make it as good as new.

He's promised.

There was really no other option.

We discussed calling our insurance company and explaining to them what happened, how I was rear-ended. It was just too funny. I was furious and sad and rolling-on-the-floor-laughing at the same time. We discussed leaving it and me just driving around a dented car. Like this would ever happen. This didn't sit well with me.

So LoveHubbie will fix it.

Tomorrow.

Is that too funny or what?